


Premier League

by Theophila



Category: Ghostbusters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2010-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theophila/pseuds/Theophila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in his spare time, Winston coaches "Little League"....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Premier League

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look! A fuzzy plot bunny!

A cooling breeze ruffled through the foliage of nearby trees, soothing in the uncharacteristically warm spring day. Young voices cheered on team-mates as a lad made a dash for the home plate before the fielders could strike him out. With only a second to spare, he put on a spurt of speed, before sliding over the home plate, narrowly missing being caught out by the pitcher catching the ball. The cheers of the batting team became louder, and the boy, whose outfit and face were streaked with dust, grinned, returning to the dugouts.

 

Silence fell on the pitch as the next batter went up to try their fate. Sitting on the bleachers, next to where Winston stood, Rookie watched as the pitcher tossed the ball. There was a loud “_CRACK!_”, and the ball went zooming across the field. The boy who had sent it flying stood at home base, staring at his handiwork despite chants of, “run!” from his teammates.

 

“Kid, get moving!” Winston shouted, breaking the boy from his reverie. Quick as a rabbit, the young lad ran from the home base, to the first, and then the second. Sparing a glance at the fielders, he decided to make a break for third base. Unfortunately, the ball soared back to the pitcher's hand just seconds before he reached the next base, and the boy was declared “out”.

 

With a vaguely disappointed look, the boy trudged back over to the dugouts.

 

“Hey, Mick,” Winston addressed him, the boy stopping and looking up at him. “It's alright,” he told the boy – Mick – his voice firm and reassuring. “That was a good strike. Keep it up.”

 

Mick smiled, the gentle praise seeming to lessen the sting, and took shelter from the warm morning sun under the dugout. The other boy who had scored a home-run high-fived Mick as he sat down, and soon, both were engrossed in swapping and comparing their baseball cards.

 

Rookie smiled, and took a sip from her water bottle as she continued to watch. In the months she had been with the Ghostbusters team, she had slowly gotten to know the team. As it turned out, Winston's church had its own Little League team, with him as their coach. He had brought Rookie along after discovering she had never played baseball before – her family hadn't been big on sports – nor had she ever sat down to watch a match. He had even explained the rules as they sat in traffic on their way to the field that morning, Rookie doing her best to commit them to memory.

 

The game continued under Winston's watchful oversight, each youngster getting a fair try until at last, the final member of the batting team returned to home base, at which point, Winston blew on a whistle. The kids assembled around him, dropping whatever they had been doing before, recognizing that he was calling full-time on the first round.

 

“Alright, huddle!” Winston called over the chatter. “Alright, that was some good play on both sides. Now, you're going to swap – you know the drill. If you were fielding before, you're batting now. If you were batting, you're gonna field for a bit.” He glanced over his shoulder to Rookie, who was still sitting on the bleachers. “Rookie, you're up.”

 

When Rookie blinked and gave Winston the deer in the headlamps look, he said, “that's right, Rookie here will be joining the batting team.” With a mischievous grin, he added to the fielders, “and it will be _your _job, to get her out. Think you can do that?”

 

“Yeah!” The kids on the fielding team cheered.

 

“Alright, let's play,” Winston nodded, and the kids dispersed, the batting team heading for the dugouts, with the fielders chatting amongst themselves to choose a pitcher before spreading out. Rookie got to her feet, still looking vaguely lost. Winston clapped her on the shoulder.

 

“Don't look so worried,” he told her. “Just figured as you've never played before, what better time to start?”

 

Rookie nodded, taking it as a challenge, setting her jaw into a determined look. Winston's grin returned.

 

“Go get 'em, Tiger.”

 

As Rookie headed for the home plate, one of the kids on her team tugged lightly on her shirt to get her attention, and then passed her a helmet that she recognised as Winston's.

 

“Safety first,” the boy said seriously. Rookie blinked, and then nodded her thanks, pulling on the helmet. It was just slightly too big, slipping whenever she moved her head, but she could at least see through the metal grille on the front, which was for now, all that mattered.

 

Picking up the bat, Rookie gripped it in both hands, trying to remember how she saw the youngsters holding it, and their stance. Looking back at Winston, he understood and proceeded to correct her grip.

 

“Not too tight,” he told her as he aligned her hands into the right position, ensuring that the bat was held in her fingers rather than her palms. “If you hold it too tight, your swing won't be as fluid, makes it harder to hit the ball.” Winston pushed her hands in towards her chest a little. “And not too far out, either.”

 

Rookie nodded. Winston's feet lightly knocked her's to shoulder width apart. “Just like your hands, a relaxed stance makes it easier to hit the ball,” he explained. Stepping back, he eyed her posture and grip. “That should do. Ready, Rook?”

 

He was answered with a determined nod from Rookie. “Alright,” Winston turned to the others on the field. “Play ball!”

 

The kid playing pitcher passed the ball from his mitt-hand to his dominant hand, and took up his own stance, before tossing the ball at Rookie. She flinched, and swung seconds too early, the ball whizzing past her. A few titters went around from the kids, but Winston said absolutely nothing, and continued to watch as she resumed her stance, the ball thrown back to the pitcher. Absolute silence, and then, the kid threw the ball again.

 

_CRACK!_

 

The ball flew across the pitch, and without stopping to think, Rookie dropped the bat and proceeded to run as fast as possible. She briefly stopped at first base before Winston urged her on, and then passed second base, making her way to third, wondering as she ran, if she might be able to make it to home.

 

Making it past third base, she eventually stumbled over her feet on her way to the home base. Rookie slid on her belly across the pitch, very nearly making it to the home base, but being called “out” as the catcher bounced the ball off the home base.

 

The noisy chatter of collaboration between the fielders turned to triumphant cheering. Rookie couldn't help but smile, despite having been called out. Winston strode over and offered her a hand in getting back to her feet, grinning at her.

 

“Gonna have to watch _you_, Rook,” he told her, and clapped her shoulder. “Well played for a newbie.”

 

Rookie returned the grin, exhilarated, and nodded her thanks. Winston indicated the dugouts as they headed back to the seats. “Keep that up, and maybe I'll finally have someone on my side can go up against Ray!”

 

Rookie couldn't help the snicker at that. Ray was perhaps the only other baseball fan in the Busters, with a friendly rivalry building between the two men. Egon, while understanding the dynamics of the game and its rules, was somewhat perplexed by actually putting it into action, and Peter generally preferred football, particularly if it involved attractive women cheering his team on. Putting it out of her mind for now, she sat down on the bleachers, having located her water bottle, and watched as the next of her teammates stepped up to the batting plate, preparing to continue play.

 

**END**


End file.
